


Hot Docent

by dragon_temeraire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Art Student Stiles Stilinski, College Student Stiles, Fluff, M/M, Museum Docent Derek, Museums
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 20:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12441399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_temeraire/pseuds/dragon_temeraire
Summary: Stiles usually doesn’t have any trouble concentrating on drawing when he’s at the museum, but lately he’s been very distracted by someone with a wonderful voice and a perfect jawline.





	Hot Docent

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the museum AU on [ on this post](http://nogitsunelichen.tumblr.com/post/161638173519/one-of-your-otp-is-an-artist).

The Beacon Hills Art Museum isn’t the greatest, no. But it’s free for college students and always peaceful and quiet, so Stiles shows up pretty often anyway.

The museum has recently put several new pieces on display, which is great for Stiles because it gives him new things to sketch, but it also sucks, because now there’s a bunch of _other people_ showing up to look at them. Noisy, distracting people.

Usually the tours happen every few hours, because visitors so rarely want to go on one, but today it feels like they’re happening every twenty minutes. Often enough to keep him from concentrating on his drawing, anyway.

He’s been pointedly trying to tune out the tour guides’ rote speeches every time they come through the wing he’s in, but this time he can’t quite do it. There’s something about this docent’s voice—it’s warm and pleasant, and unlike some of the other docents, he doesn’t sound _bored_.

Stiles lifts his pencil from the paper, intrigued. He’s facing away from the group, so his mind has already conjured up an image of what the lovely-voice docent looks like. But when he casually turns around to have a look, he finds that he’s _very_ wrong.

He’s wildly torn between the descriptors _handsome_ and _beautiful_ , and he can’t help but stare as the docent explains the significance of the painting hanging behind him. The entire tour group is giving him their full attention, and Stiles completely understands why.

He finds himself longing to draw Ridiculously Hot Docent, even though his usual subject matter is stuff like robots and mythical creatures.

He knows he’d never be able to capture that handsome-beauty on paper, anyway.

He’s more than a little disappointed when RHD leads his group away, and Stiles tries to listen to him as long as he can.

 

*

 

When Stiles visits the museum the next week, he’s delighted to see that Hot Docent is there again. He’s is tempted to join his tour group, just for kicks, but he has his sketchbook and an assignment that’s due in a couple of days, so he has to get to work.

He does take a little break when Hot Docent leads a tour through, passionately describing different eras of art history, and after he’s gone, Stiles finds himself idly sketching his perfect jawline and stubble. When he realizes what he’s doing, he rolls his eyes at himself and scribbles over it.

 

*

 

The popularity of the new exhibit must be waning, because there’s no tour group to disturb him the next week. He gets to spend hours drawing the bronze tiger statue in the east wing with absolutely no distractions.

He tries to pretend he’s not disappointed.

 

*

 

When there’s no appearance of Hot Docent the next week, Stiles goes looking for him. He roams through both main wings, and even goes out to the small relaxation garden, with its fancifully shaped topiaries. He makes a couple of quick sketches while he’s there, but then he continues his search.

He swings by the entry desk, and even checks the children’s arts and crafts room. There’s a lot of tiny masterpieces on the wall, but no docents at all. Stiles sits down in one of the tiny chairs and doodles a happy little robot on a scrap of paper, and he sticks it to the cup of pencils and markers before he goes.

 

*

 

Stiles is considering changing his usual museum day. Sure, he’s been super productive these last few weeks, but he at least wanted a chance to talk to (and probably get shot down by) Hot Docent.

Or, at the very least, find out his _actual name_.

Stiles can only guess that he either moved on from his museum job, or he got a shift on a different day. He’s really hoping it’s the latter, because otherwise he’ll probably never see him again.

He considers asking at the front desk, but going up and saying “do you know when the hot guy with the perfect stubble and the amazing voice works?” would be pretty weird. He has a couple of friends that work non-docent jobs at the museum, and he considers asking them too, but they’d know right away that it was another one of his hopeless crushes.

Stiles tries to push the Hot Docent issue to the back of his mind, and focus on the tree he’s sketching instead. It has a smooth, flowing texture in the painting, and Stiles can’t quite capture it, no matter how hard he tries.

He’s putting in some light shading, hoping that helps, when he hears footsteps approaching. “Hey, that’s really good,” says a _very_ familiar voice.

Stiles turns, and there, taking a seat on the bench next to him, is Hot Docent. Or maybe just Hot Guy, because he’s in his regular clothes, not the museum uniform. He somehow looks _even better_ than he did a few weeks ago, which is completely unfair.

Stiles swallows, trying to find his voice. “Not as good as that,” he says, nodding toward the painting. It’s better than staring awkwardly.

“You’re trying to get that movement, huh?” he says perceptively. “I’ve always found this work very soothing because of that implied motion.”

“Do you talk about it on your tours, then?” Stiles says, glancing at him curiously.

“Sometimes. Depends on how well we’re moving along. Our guided tours aren’t supposed to be longer than an hour, so sometimes you have to skip things,” he explains.

Stiles nods. “But no tours from you today, I’m guessing?”

“No,” he says, smiling. “I had to cover some shifts on Wednesday because of how well-received the exhibit was, but I’m back to my usual Tuesdays.”

“The number of people that showed up surprised me, too,” Stiles says. “And I’m Stiles, by the way,” he says, because he feels like they’re more than due for an introduction.

“Stiles Stilinski, right?” he says, nodding, and Stiles’ raises his eyebrows in surprise.

“Um, yeah?” he confirms, wondering if he should be worried.

“Some of my co-workers kind of consider you a fixture here,” he explains. “So I’ve heard about you. And I’m Derek Hale,” he adds with a smile.

Stiles grins. “I’m guessing one of the people who told you about me was Allison.” He’s been friends with her for years, after they met in French Art History class, and they stayed in contact even after she graduated from college.

“Yeah. I asked her about the cute little robot drawing in the craft room, and she immediately knew it was yours,” Derek says.

“Well, of course. She’s always been a fan of my art, she has very discerning taste,” Stiles jokes.

“She does,” Derek says, completely genuine. “She says you come here to draw every week.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Who better to learn from than the people good enough to show up in a museum?”

“I suppose that’s true,” Derek says. “If showing up in a museum is your end goal.”

Stiles laughs. “Ah, I’m still trying to figure that out. Here, have a look at this,” he says, flipping to the drawing of the tiger statue he did last week.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Derek says, gently taking the sketchbook out of Stiles’ hands and peering at it closely. “You made it look better than it actually does.”

“Nah, I just gave it better lighting,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Thanks, though. I was proud of the way it turned out.”

Derek nods. “You should consider submitting something for the Local Artists Exhibit that’s coming up.”

“Oh, I have just the thing,” Stiles snorts, flipping to a different page. He’d spent hours sketching one of the gallery’s _layouts_ , because he’d been so taken with it—it had featured a series of paintings of the ocean, and they’d been arranged on the wall in a flowing wave pattern, drawing the eye smoothly from start to finish.

Derek’s eyes widen when he sees it. “You liked that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says excitedly, because no one ever seems to appreciate the artistic ways some exhibits are displayed. “It was really captivating, and it gave extra power to the ocean imagery, making all the works feel connected even though they were from different artists. And it caught the eye way more than the usual row of paintings hung at the same height.”

Derek smiles then. “It was my idea to arrange them like that, so it’s good to know someone appreciated it.”

“It was awesome,” Stiles says, and doesn’t miss the pink on Derek’s cheeks. “I went in there all the time while that exhibit was up.”

“I helped display paintings at The Gallery on Fifth before I came here, so I’ve had some practice,” Derek says, still looking a little embarrassed. “Well, Allison told me not to bother you too much, so I better get going.”

“Wait, you’re not bothering me—” Stiles tries, but Derek is already gone. He sighs and flips the sketchbook closed.

He’s done for the day anyway.

There’s no way he can concentrate on his art now, not after seeing Derek smile and blush like that.

 

*

 

Stiles definitely considers showing up on Tuesday instead, since Derek mentioned that was the day he worked, but decides that might be too weird. Besides, Lydia has told him numerous times that people don’t usually want to be hit on _while they’re working,_ so.

He ends up going on his usual Wednesday. It’s pretty much completely empty, and Stiles figures that’s because most of the other college students who come here are holed up in the library, studying for their midterms. Stiles has managed to stay on top of things this semester, so he doesn’t feel the need to cram.

Instead he begins to sketch a painting of a dove, marveling at the way the artist managed to make it look kind and gentle. It’s in the eye, Stiles is pretty sure.

He’s drawing the curve of a wing when he hears, “Hey,” and Derek sits down next to him, giving him a shy smile.

“I lost my nerve last time, so I’m just going to do it now,” he says determinedly, and Stiles sets his pencil down, giving Derek his full attention. “Would you—” he tries, then shakes his head. “Do you want to go to dinner with me? Or a movie? Or maybe—”

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles cuts in, halting his nervous ramble. “I would love to go on a date with you.”

“Really? I mean, okay,” Derek gets out, blushing a little. It’s _adorable_. “Yes, good. Tonight?”

“Yeah,” Stiles says easily, giving Derek a smile. “Dinner tonight sounds great.”

Derek smiles back, and Stiles feels his heart flutter pleasantly.

He has a feeling that Derek is going to end up in his sketchbook after all. There’s no way Stiles can resist drawing something as beautiful as that smile. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come by and prompt me/talk to me [ on tumblr](http://dragon-temeraire.tumblr.com/).


End file.
